


Love, and what it is.

by Rogue_Bard



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Bard/pseuds/Rogue_Bard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Charity look after Harry, they help him when he's hurt. That's just what friends do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, and what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on the Dresden Files Kink Meme as a fill there (though it isn't in the archive as of yet).

Things had finally started to calm down on the home front. It had been almost a month since Molly’s trial, and her apprenticeship had settled into a routine of study, meditation, and me getting a good dinner at the Carpenter house a couple of times a week. With my fear of Michael’s reaction to Lash being in my head a thing of the past, and Charity not hating my guts for the first time in ever, it was actually really nice to be there, just soaking up the normalcy. 

The work front was, of course, a completely different story. I had pretty steady jobs finding lost items, and between that, my newly minted apprentice, and Wardening, I kept pretty busy. The problems, when they came, were not unexpected, but that didn’t mean I had to like them. I had known that I couldn’t break into the heart of Winter without consequence. Mab hadn’t chosen to express her displeasure yet (you could tell by the fact that I wasn’t an oily smudge), but there were plenty of lesser Winter fae who wanted to get in good with the Queen, and what better way to do that than to solve one of her little problems? 

I didn’t mind it all falling on me. I preferred it that way, even. No one seemed to know that Charity had been part of the raid on Arctis Tor, and bringing Summer fire there was so shocking that the identity of the girl that the phages had taken, who I had gone in to save, had been lost in the background. That was how I wanted this whole thing to stay; in the background. I knew that Michael would want to help if he knew about my fairy trouble, and I wasn’t about to put him in more danger. So I kept it from them, and by extension, from Molly. Her relationship with her parents was finally improving, I didn’t want to be the cause of another rift between them. Being has how I saw Molly almost every day, and the whole Carpenter family several times a week, keeping things from them was difficult. And tiring; it felt like I was tired all the time now. 

***********

In the Carpenter’s living room after one of Charity’s lovely dinners, we three adults sat, enjoying the comfortable silence. It was getting late, the children were all in bed (even Molly, who had been exhausted by the day’s lesson). It was near time for me to get on home, see if Bob had thought up any new potions I could make to treat the bruises from my latest close encounter the fae kind. I knew that, but still, I didn’t want to move. The house had such an amazing aura, it felt so safe here, so comfortable. I hadn’t really been around much before, barring a crisis. I hadn’t had time to appreciate this. And honestly, with how the lady of the house had felt about me before, it probably wouldn’t have been this relaxing of an aura, anyway. Now we had a peace, or at least an understanding.  
I looked around the room, at nothing in particular, trying to convince my legs that getting up was the right thing to do. 

“Harry,” Michael said, breaking the silence, “are you going to tell us what’s wrong?” I tried and failed to hold in a brief shudder, then proceeded to ignore it. Maybe they would too? Yep, king of bull-shit and wishful thinking, that’s me. 

“What? I’m fine, Michael. There’s been a lot of work lately, but nothing I can’t handle. Why, does Molly think her lessons are moving too slowly? Because I’ve told her-” 

“This isn’t about Molly, Harry. This is about you.” If I was the king of bull-shit, Charity was the queen of cutting through it. With an axe. So apparently distracting them with one of their children wasn’t going to work. Plan B, then.

“Alright, so maybe I have been a little tired lately, you’re right. And it’s late, I should get going, get some sleep.” I rose, and Michael did too, Charity following as soon as she had set aside the shirt she was mending. 

“Harry, don’t.” Michael’s voice was gentle, his eyes imploring. “We’re your friends. Let us help you. Whatever this is, you shouldn’t have to carry it alone.” Oh. That was what this was about. He thought that this whole thing had something to do with Lash’s shadow. Okay, that made sense. He was taking a risk leaving her with me at all, and I was around his children regularly. I couldn’t blame the man for being wary. 

“It’s nothing to do with the coin Michael, I promise you.” Until now, thinking about the prospect of not being able to come around anymore, I hadn’t realized how much these nights, this family, this chance to be in a real home, had come to mean to me. “I will never take it up, and I would never expose your family to that sort of thing. I’ll swear it on my magic, if that would make you feel better.” I had to make things right with them.

“Oh Harry,” Charity shook her head, coming over to stand with the two of us. “this isn’t about coin, or the children. We know that they are as safe with you as with either of us, that you would never hurt them. We trust you with them. I’m just not so sure we can trust you with yourself.” She reached over, laying a hand firmly on my shoulder and giving what I’m sure was meant to be a comforting squeeze. It would have been, if not for the fact that I had been tossed into a wall that morning by some ape-lobster thing. Instead of being appreciative, I tensed up and winced. Immediately her grip softened, though her hand remained in place as she looked to her husband.

“What happened, Harry?” he asked, “Molly hadn’t mentioned you getting hurt on any of your cases recently.”

“Because it wasn’t a case, and it was just this morning, and it’s not that bad. I’ll whip something up, be good as new in a day or two.” This did nothing to dispel their concern. Having all of their attention on me like this was uncomfortable, suffocating. I had to get out of there. “Listen, it’s not like it matters, so-” 

“Yes it does!” Michael quickly lowered his voice, wary of the children upstairs. “It does matter, Harry. You matter.” His gaze bored into me, and I had to look away. I didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve friends made of this much goodness and love.

“You do matter, Harry. It’s not your choice, whether or not we care about you.” Charity removed her hand, sighing. “But if you won’t accept that, will you at least accept some help? We’ve got a first aid kit upstairs, let us get you patched up before you leave.” She smiled softly. “If nothing else, you’ll sleep better.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath that turned into a sigh. I wished that they wouldn’t care so much. They shouldn’t, they were better than that. But apparently they were going to, and somehow it seemed like rejecting their help now would just hurt them, and I couldn’t bear to do that. 

“Alright.” I said quietly, and followed Michael as he led me up to the front hall and up the stairs.

***************

The most impressive of Charity’s many first aid kits was located in the master bathroom, and Charity went to fetch it while Michael took me very lightly by the shoulder and guided me to sit on the edge of their bed, the warmth of his hands soothing the ache that felt as though it had soaked clear through my bones. I just sat there in a daze for what felt like several minutes, before Michael, sitting beside me, nudged at my arm, causing me to look over at him. He raised an eyebrow in quiet amusement. 

“It’s generally easier to treat the wounds without the layer of flannel in the way.” He said, smiling. “I do have some experience with these things.”

With a small smile of my own and a breath of laughter, I began to un-button my shirt. After picking my sorry ass up off the ground that morning (and setting my pursuer on fire, last I’d be seeing of that guy, I hoped), I had ascertained that I wasn’t bleeding, and that removing any of the clothing on my upper body would be entirely unnecessary. The duster was hanging in the Carpenter’s coat closet now, but I was still wearing my button-down and a t-shirt. The first came off fairly easily, but removing the t-shirt turned my torso into one large, teeth-gritting ache. When at last I got the damn thing over my head, I opened my eyes to see Charity emerge from the bathroom with a large plastic box. She stopped a few feet from the bed when she saw me, her eyebrows going up. I looked over at Michael, who also seemed rather surprised.

“Oh come on guys, it’s not /that/ bad.” I joked weakly. Charity crossed to the bed with a disapproving click of her tongue, setting the box down beside her and removing a fist-sized jar. 

“Turn.” She ordered. I attempted to give her better access to my back, where the impact bruises were likely the worst, but my spine protested loudly and I winced again, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. “Alright, stop.” She amended, instead moving to sit cross-legged behind me on the bed. 

Michael, meanwhile, was examining the marks on my chest, which while fewer, were more like welts than bruises. Large, rough hands calloused from wood-working and sword-wielding ghosted over my skin, causing feelings of warmth to run through me as I leaned in to his touch. It wasn’t something I had really realized, that you could be starved for human contact. But I was, apparently. That was the only way to explain this. Finishing his –caress, was that the right word?-, he moved on to working the kinks out of my hands and wrists. 

A light smell of rosemary came from behind me as Charity opened the jar, and suddenly her hands were on my back, gently working salve into bruised skin. This proved to be exactly what I needed, and my head feel forward as I relaxed, completely giving up all care over what was happening, aside from the fact that it felt wonderful. 

“How long has it been,” Michael said quietly, in a way that made the question seem rhetorical, “since someone has touched you and it hasn’t been about hurting you?” my eyes sprang open as I tried to move away from them. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t that pathetic. I didn’t need help, didn’t need this-

“Yes, Harry, you do.” Charity said firmly, her massage going up to my shoulders to stop me from moving. I hadn’t even realized that I had been speaking aloud. “There isn’t anything pathetic about needing other people, once in a while. It’s what make you human.” Her hands continued to move over me as she quieted. Michael had finished working my hands, and was now unlacing my boots in order to do the same thing to my feet. They had shared a look when I tried to leave, some wordless conversation borne from years of marriage, and now seemed content to leave me in silence with my thoughts.

Michael had been right to wonder. I hadn’t been with anyone since Susan, and while I shared brief hugs and back-slaps with Thomas and Murphy, as well as the whole Carpenter clan, it had been years since I had had this kind of prolonged physical contact. I needed it, as much as that might gall me, and they were giving freely. It was friendship. I trusted these people. It was alright to relax. 

Closing my eyes again, I returned to my state of mindless enjoyment. After a few minutes, I was so relaxed that it took me far longer than it should have to realize that Charity was laying soft kisses on the back of my neck and over my shoulders. Even then, it didn’t fully process. The hands on me never stopped moving, it was all just so warm and comfortable.

My relaxation deepened, so I didn’t really mind when Michael’s hands moved from my foot up my calf, running broad strokes over my outer thighs before moving to my belt. I knew exactly what was happening, but it was almost like it was happening to someone else, or like it was some kind of dream, those amazing dreams that you don’t ever want to wake up from. Except things like that didn’t happen to me. I got nightmares. So when the two of them tipped my legs up onto the bed and laid me down on my back, I had to come back to reality.

“I- what are you- this isn’t real, it can’t-” I shuddered, wanting this so badly. And what sort of person did that make me? Michael and Charity were married. They were the best example I knew of the idea that marriage was a holy covenant. I was no part of that, it wasn’t something I could ever have, it just- 

“Harry, stop that.” Michael said, quiet amusement in his voice. “You’re our friend. We love you.” He said this not as a declaration, but as a simple statement of truth.

“Trust us, Harry.” Charity said softly. “Let us take care of you.” A part of my brain was cautioning me about complications, that this was something I would surely regret. I pushed it away, leaving myself in the hands of my friends. Charity was right, I could trust them, of course I could. 

Laying back against the pillows, I sighed as Charity’s salve-covered hands traced up and down my sides. Michael had my belt open now, and before long my jeans were entirely off, boxers going with them. It was amazing sometimes how strong Michael was. It wasn’t as though I were some tiny distressed damsel, but still he lifted my hips with no problem. He went back to massaging my legs, and his hands were so warm against my skin, and it had been so long…

Even when not speaking, Michael and Charity seemed to have communication down to a science. At some unseen signal, they moved in a way that almost seemed choreographed to switch places, Michael running his hands over my chest again, twining his fingers though my hair to massage my scalp, planting kisses along the way. Charity was working her way up my legs, though she hadn’t bothered to replenish her supply of bruise salve. Reaching my upper thighs, she began planting kisses in the wake of her hands.

I hadn’t even realized that I was growing hard until I felt her mouth on me, tongue circling the head of my cock before sucking it into her mouth. I gasped and arched up, only to meet the resistance of Michaels strong, warms hands as he chuckled against my forehead, laying another kiss against my brow. I could feel Charity smiling around me as she went to work in earnest, one hand worked the lower portion of my cock on concert with her mouth in the head, rolling, tugging, licking, sucking. The other hand circled on my hip before coming up to clasp one of my own as it grasped at the blankets. 

His kisses and caresses never stopping, Michael took my other hand, squeezing as he spoke against my ear. “Come on Harry. Relax. Let us take care of you, let us give you this. Let us love you.” 

I came with a start, gasping and shuddering, the two of them holding my hands and stroking me through the aftershocks until I settled. I was really and truly out of it now, so lost in the post-orgasm rush that I hardly noticed when one of the bodies next to me, and then the other, moved. 

They must have though, because when I finally opened my eyes, Michael was sliding the blankets down the bed, pulling them out from under me. He wore only pajama pants, and I turned my head to see Charity on my other side, in a sleeveless nightgown. My confusion must have shown on my face, because she gave me a far gentler smile than I had ever seen from her, and handed me my boxers.

I shook myself. Of course. I had just- I wasn’t even sure- why in the hell had I just done that? But whatever the reason, whatever had just gone on, it was time for me to leave. This was their place, their bed. I didn’t belong here. Pulling my boxers on haphazardly I tried to get up.

“Harry, stay.” Michael said. It wasn’t a command, but somehow it was more than a request. Easing back down onto the bed, I looked between the two of them in quiet confusion as they climbed into bed and pulled the covers over the three of us. Michael turned off the lamp and leaned over me in the darkness, kissing Charity. Emotions are a power all on their own, and from that kiss, I could feel the strength of their love for each other, overflowing. Breaking the kiss, Michael leaned down to place another soft kiss on my forehead before laying down. Charity, too, kissed my brow, fingers laying a fleeting caress over my chest as she did so. 

“Sleep, Harry,” she whispered. 

And so, in love and contentment, with my friends on either side of me, I slept.


End file.
